by Amelia Grace
I grabbed her hand and started to walk with her.
‘Where were you heading to?’ I asked, my voice softer.
‘Anywhere, as long as it was away from you,’ she answered quietly.
‘I’m sorry Georgia. I didn’t mean to offend you. It’s just that the circumstances are so....so...’ I stumbled.
‘Intriguing,’ she finished. I nodded at her and took a deep breath, then brought her hand up to my lips, and kissed it with the lightness of a feather.
‘Read to me again Georgia,’ I requested, to keep her near. I didn’t want to say goodbye yet.
A vacated park bench sat beside the azure blue lake, where ducks floated in gracefulness, and pelicans sat judging the shenanigans nearby.
Georgia sat on the bench first. And then I. I leaned forward, resting my elbows on my knees as she read.
“’I ran back to my research room and grabbed my coat, then took off out the automatic double doors. I had decided to follow him. I didn’t know where this little adventure would lead me to, but my inner conscience was telling me to go. I stayed back fifteen metres behind him, trailing him like a spy. He walked like a man who knew his destiny. He walked like a man full of self-confidence who was satisfied with his lot in life. He was so unlike the man that I had conversations with in the research hospital. Did he wear a mask to hide his misery, his doubt about life? Or, maybe he had a multiple personality. What if he was just playing me, and I had fallen for it hook, line and sinker? I hate being so gullible. I always believe people at face value, thinking the best of them, believing that they had a good heart.
He continued walking through the city streets, and then to the park near the bridge that led to the other side of the city. It was dark there at this time of the afternoon, and not a soul was to be seen. He took the path that led to the pedestrian walkway over the bridge, but then detoured down a side path. I followed him over the unstable worn path, stumbling a few times over loose rocks as I walked the dusty dirt path down to the bridge pylons, choosing to hide behind one as I watched Ethan enter through a blanketed doorway, concealing what lay beyond.
It was deathly silent and cold. I hid behind the pylon for an hour, obscured from the eyes of those who entered and left the blanketed doorway of mystery – to me anyway.
It was not a place of prestige, high society, or even the hideout of a violent gang, but one of a place of squalor, of people poor in wealth, health and spirit. Their faces reflecting the pain and torture etched on their hearts and minds.
I swallowed hard. This was almost too much to bear. I wanted to go in there and announce that there was room for them at the Inn, luxury, food for the body, mind and heart. Healing peace and a happy future for them all, no matter what has happened to them or what they have done. We are all people. We have all made mistakes, or have been dealt a major blow. I wiped a tear away from my face and inhaled deeply trying to control my emotions from boiling over with heartbreak.
But then an alarming scream from a girl startled me. She screamed over and over and over again chilling me to the bone. I couldn’t stand here and listen to it. I had to enter the blanketed doorway and help the girl from the pain that she was so obviously suffering.
In slow premeditated steps I approached the blanket, tuning into the direction of the screams. As I peeled back the blanket concealing the entrance into the dark cavernous community dwelling, the lighted candle led me directly to the girl. She was covered in perspiration, her eyes screwed closed in pain. Hovering over her were three men.
Rage fuelled my body now as I moved at speed towards her to rip the men away from her. She screamed out again.
‘Push,’ a gravelly voice said. What? They are encouraging each other.
‘No she is bleeding,’ another said. What have they done to her? Please, please, stop.
‘Doc, what shall we do?’ the first one asked, concern in his voice.
I moved into a better position to see the faces of the men to be able to testify against them for the hideous crime that they perpetrated, violently invading the body of an innocent woman.
I froze. Ethan was there with the other two. No, no, noooo. Please stop. I heaved with revulsion and nausea. Then I looked down at the girl. She was heavily pregnant, and in the throes of childbirth.
‘Doc, tell us what to do?’ a man asked again. He was a doctor? Ethan was a doctor?
I knelt next to the teenager and ran my hand over her forehead.
‘Breathe, it’s okay. I can help you,’ I said to her in hushed tones.
I looked up, my eyes meeting Ethan’s. He looked at me with disdain, his eyes negatively piercing mine. Cold, callous, making me shudder and my skin prickle. Immediately I removed my eyes from his and concentrated on the girl labouring in front of me.
‘I’m going to look at how your baby is going, is that okay?’ I said calmly. She nodded at me, her eyes pleading for help, desperate for relief from the pain of childbirth.
Moving next to Ethan, I could see the cause of concern. There was blood, maybe too much. I placed my hand on her belly, gently rubbing my hand over the baby, and speaking quiet words of assurance to her and her baby. I could see a tuft of black hair at the entrance of her birth canal. The baby would be here soon, very soon.
Immediately my nursing instincts kicked in.
‘When you feel the next contraction push as hard as you can. Your beautiful baby is minutes from birth. You are doing exceptionally well. Breathe, breathe, breathe,’ I encouraged her, while looking into the eyes of Ethan.
The girl screamed out.
‘Now push, as hard as you can, and push again, nearly there. The baby’s head is out,’ I said as I encouraged her, and wiped her forehead
And with the next contraction, the baby was born. A beautiful princess.
The baby’s cry echoed through the cavern, and the homeless peoples erupted in a happy cheer. I wrapped the baby up in some old material, while Ethan attended to the girl.
I could see him rapidly working to stem the bleeding. But he had no medical equipment to stop the flow of blood.
At once, he stood and picked up the girl in his arms. Then hastily left the dark cavern these people called home.
Under the cloak of darkness, I followed Ethan. I carried the sweet baby in my arms while he carried the girl. We hailed a taxi and Ethan directed it to the secret entrance of the hospital, the hub of the Doctors of Compassion.
There was a hive of activity that seemed to stop, and then flowed in slow motion as soon as the Compassionate Sisters saw a bleeding young girl and a newborn baby enter, followed by a hyper speed of doctors ferrying her off for examination. We followed her in. I held her hand as she was examined, whispering words of assurance and brushing her long hair for comfort. She gripped my hand in fear. Ethan placed his hand upon her head and closed his eyes as if in prayer, breathing deeply, evenly.
The doctors quelled her bleeding, and her life was no longer threatened. She fell into a peaceful sleep. I kissed her forehead, blessing her and her newborn baby, a gift to her. May their journey in life be together, full of love and peace.
I left the room under Ethan’s instruction. He followed me out, his hand on my back pushing me urgently until we were outside the door.
‘What are you doing?’ he yelled at me, mad as hell. And I was angry with him. How dare he treat me this way?
‘No, what are YOU doing?’ I counter questioned, my hands on my hips, fuming anger from my eyes. He turned around and ran his hand through his hair.
‘YOU had NO right to follow me Georgia!’ he yelled.
‘THAT girl would have died if I didn’t happen to be there, Ethan!’ I yelled back. He looked at me full of fury, and was about to say something, but stopped himself.
‘I want some answers Ethan. You have deceived me,’ I spat at him. He pulled a cell phone out of his pocket, shocking me. He was leading a double life. Maybe he did have a split personality. He ordered a taxi.
‘When the cab arrives, get
in it and disappear. You saw nothing tonight – no bridge, no people, no girl, no baby, no secret hospital – understood?’ he said in a low threatening voice, and then ran off into the dark shadows.
I stood alone in a poorly lit deserted street, noises unfamiliar to me, unnerving me. A cool breeze brushed against my skin telling me that I was unwelcome. I wrapped my arms around myself for comfort, wanting to cry out at the hurt of deceit from a man that I had opened my heart up to. But he had reared his ugly head and devoured me – I was now a woman scorned. I never wanted to see him again.’”
Georgia’s voice was wavering. I looked over at her to find a tear running down her face.
I closed my eyes.
‘I’m sorry that the book is painful for you to read Georgia. I wish that I could see the words so that I could read it to myself, and save you from the sadness that you feel.’ I sat up and put my arm around her and pulled her to my chest as she sobbed some more. We sat in silence for some time. I felt very protective of her, like she was mine forever. But I knew that she was not. I could never fall in love and live happily ever after with a wife to adore and cherish till death do us part. CAI would see to that. They would see to it that I lived a long and lonely existence, wishing for my life to end to extinguish the pain.
‘I’m sorry Georgia, but I need to go,’ I said quietly against her head.
‘Are you meeting the redhead again?’ she asked. I inhaled sharply. How could she know that I saw Mia last night?
‘And you know about the redhead because?’ I asked.
‘I followed you last night,’ she added matter of factly.
‘Oh, you’re in the habit of following men then are you?’ I stated.
‘She is a work colleague Georgia, and I probably shouldn’t have given you that information. Now you know too much.’ I kicked myself for what I had revealed to her. Stupid! Stupid!
‘I’ll email you Tim,’ she commented.
‘I will look forward to it,’ I said, smiling shyly at her. Then I stood, and walked away from her.
Chapter 12
The shower is the perfect place to conceal tears. And mine cascaded down from my eyes, smashed to smithereens at my feet, my deep sorrow washed away.
I had fallen in love with her. There was absolutely no doubt whatsoever. I had been trying to deny my feelings. But….she was the light in my life. She made me feel alive as I have never felt before.
But…… I couldn’t have her. It was like self-torture, punishing oneself.
I placed my hands over my face and screamed in frustration, in anger, and then breathed out deeply, releasing my self pity.
I went to bed in the darkness, metaphorically speaking. The darkness of my heart, my mind, my future. I had to fight it. It couldn’t suffocate me, because then Mr Rubin wins, and I was damned if I was going to let him win.
I felt a surge of optimism, a cause worthy to fight for, and the darkness left me.
All things are possible.
11:15pm, the anticipated vibration of the Tim Jennings cell phone tickled my leg. I pulled the bed covers over my head and opened up the email.
FROM: GEORGIA HARRISON
SUBJECT: hearts, flowers, tears
DATE: May 18 2011 23:15
TO: Tim Jennings
Dear Tim,
I don’t have a boyfriend. Beautiful men are far and few between. Maybe I am too picky. However, I do have some amazing girlfriends that I could match you up with if you were looking for a date, or even a partner for life.
Thank-you for letting me stain your shirt with my tears. You have the patience of a Saint.
Are you able to meet me again tomorrow?
X Georgia #weirdmenmagnet
FROM: Saint Tim
SUBJECT: Weird men magnet
DATE: May 18 2011 23:19
TO: Georgia Harrison
Dear Georgia,
Because it is Sunday tomorrow, I can meet you and your tracker. If you name the place, I will avail myself as I am a Saint.
Am I also a weird man?
X Tim #thetearcatcher
Send .....
FROM: Georgia Harrison
SUBJECT: Trust
DATE: May 18 2011 23:25
TO: Saint Tim
Dear Tim,
I’ll meet you under the wisteria vine again – early, at the breaking of dawn. What is the description of a weird man? You are more of a mysterious man to me. I know nothing about you, yet, I trust you implicitly. We have nearly finished the book. See you tomorrow.
X Georgia #mysteriousmenareattractive
FROM: Tim Jennings
SUBJECT: Purple
DATE: May 18 2011 23:30
TO: Miss Harrison
Dear Georgia,
When you have solved the mystery of a man, is he still attractive?
Purple is the colour of good judgement. It is the colour of people seeking spiritual fulfillment. If you surround yourself with purple you will have peace of mind. Purple also symbolizes magic and mystery.
I will see you as the first rays of the sun peep over the horizon in the east, under the cascading spiritual flowers of the wisteria vine.
I do not want to finish the book. I want it to go on forever.
X Tim #ihatesayingafinalgoodbyetopeople
Send.......
I felt my energy drain away as I realised that perhaps tomorrow may be the last day that I would see Georgia. She would finish the bloody book and then our verbal contract, our connection would be done. I sighed with a heavy heart. It was probably better this way anyway. My life was about to get messier with the MR Implant. It would be better if we were done.
I shut off Tim Jennings and fell into a disturbed sleep, waking well before the sun shined its first rays, giving me time to gather my thoughts before I headed back to the park to meet my Georgia, for the final time.
She wore a dark purple long sleeved shirt. It hugged her body in all the right places, making my heart accelerate. And her black pants accentuated her lovely long legs. Oh Georgia – you make my engine hum......loudly.
She sat with her eyes closed under the radiant purple wisteria flowers, the green leaves vibrant in this twilight hour before the dawning of a new day. Her face was peaceful, and so beautiful. How I wanted to kiss her, passionately.
Without a sound, I moved in closer to her, and then placed the bouquet of pink roses under her nose. She smiled, her face lighting up. She was an angel. My angel.
‘Cohen, you are here,’ she said quietly, her eyes still closed, but her smile growing wider.
‘Yes,’ I whispered, ‘I’m your weird mysterious man that you attracted.’
She giggled. It was the sweetest sound. Then she opened her eyes and looked into mine. I drank her in. If this was our last rendezvous, I wanted to memorise everything about her.
She took the bouquet of roses from my hand, her fingers brushing against my skin, tingling me all over. Ah Georgia......
‘I was hoping that we could have breakfast together later,’ I said nervously, berating myself for my unease around her today.
‘That would be nice Cohen,’ she answered, and placed her hand on the side of my face and kissed my cheek. Her lips were soft and warm, igniting my wick of desire. ‘Thank-you for the beautiful roses, I love them.’ I smiled shyly at her.
Fascinating purple and pink colours of the twilight morning sky changed and disappeared leaving a fresh blue new day skyline as Georgia opened up the bloody book, perhaps for the last time. I watched her face as she read. I wanted her beauty burnt into my memory to keep with me forever.
“’ Georgia...’ It was his voice. I kept my eyes on the paperwork in front of me. If I made eye contact with him, I was likely you use unkind words that I would regret later. Instead I took a calming deep breath.
‘Dr Ethan...’ I replied coolly, not looking up at him.
‘I have come back for my soup for the soul, as you advised,’ he said, his voice smooth.
‘There are very
good counsellors around, psychiatrists, psychologists, dogs.....’ I offered, my voice detached, still bruised from his animosity at me a while ago.
‘It is you that I seek to talk to. It is you who can fill my need as no-one else can. I have tried to stay away from you since the last time that our paths crossed. But I am finding it impossible. I will not leave until I talk to you,’ he said assertively.
I looked up at him, narrowing my eyes at him. How could I not help him? It was what I did, who I was – a guide for those who seek.
‘Where would you like to talk to me Ethan?’ I asked, my voice softer.
‘At the park, near the bridge, there is a seat under a dead tree. 4pm. Don’t disappoint me Georgia,’ he directed, bowed his head slightly, turned and then left.
Huh! Arrogance as well – not a pleasant trait to possess.
*~*~*~*~*
He was waiting for me under the dead tree, leaning forward, his elbows on his knee, his hands threaded through his messy brown hair. His face was unreadable.
‘Ethan,’ I said as I sat beside him. He removed his hands from his hair and turned his heavily bearded face towards me and nodded in acknowledgement.
‘Thank-you for coming, I am gratified by your presence,’ he responded, the afternoon suns rays accentuating his blue eyes.
‘I wished for my occupation to remain anonymous to you, but as it turns out, my wish has not been granted,’ he started.
‘Ethan, you did speak of your high intelligence at our previous meetings. But I would not have guessed your occupation according to your attire or your state of mind. You looked more like a druggie, or a homeless man,’ I added.
‘I choose to dress like this to fit in with the people that I help. I need to be seen as one of their own. And it works well. I am not sorry if it offends you. I am working with people that desperately need help, and have no money, no energy, and see no way out of their living hell. This physical life on earth repulses me......’ he explained, looking out over the water that flowed beneath the bridge.